#i don't even know how i've actually managed to draw this much this quickly it's a little absurd

[hiding-under-the-willow]

Might be having a little too much fun playing with them like dolls at this point

@silverskye13

[myconniebaby]

Love You More

Warnings: None really! Kissing, mentions of sex, being intimate, a tiny bit of swearing and talking dirty

Summary: You and Conrad go for a drive, enjoying each others company when you come to the realization that you have to have him right now and can't wait any longer...

Sitting in the car waiting for my boyfriend, Conrad, to finish pumping gas and I can't help but stare at him through the window. It's dusk, starting to get windy and I can see a storm bubbling on the horizon. It's one of those summer pop-up storms that comes out of no where and will most likely disappear as quickly as it comes. He looks so handsome, his hair perfectly tossled and his cheeks a rosey shade of pink. Sometimes I can't believe he's actually my boyfriend. He catches me staring at him and gives me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. I smile back and he mouths "love you" to me and gives me a quick wink. I can feel my cheeks heat up as I shyly look away from his gaze. I hear the pump cut off and look up just as he opens his car door to get back inside.

"Miss me," he asks me with a joking tone and a smile.

"Always," I breathe out and answer him as he buckles up and puts the car in drive. He immediately reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together, pulling our clasped hands to his lips for a loving kiss. My cheeks get a flushed pink tint over this tiny gesture and he notices right away and smiles again.

"Love you," he says to me quietly.

"Love you more," I say leaning towards him and snuggling up as close to him as I can get in the car.

We're still holding hands and just enjoying being in each others company and drive around aimlessly for about an hour. When he finally takes a turn down my street my stomach drops a little. I don't want to leave him. I don't want to be apart from him for a single second, let alone minute or hour. I'm craving him in more of a way than I've ever craved being with another person in my entire life. The thought of being alone without him makes me want to weep. I love him so much it actually hurts. Almost as much as the thought of being without him. Instantly I realize that this doesn't need to end here tonight, not if we don't want it to. I gather my thoughts a moment and then clear my throat.

"Con...," I say as he pulls into my driveway. I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn my body towards him, his hand still in mine. He kisses my hand once again before letting go so he can put the car in park and turn off the engine.

"Y/n...," he mimicks me and puts his hand under my chin. He looks into my eyes and holds my gaze. I can't believe I'm staring into the eyes of the most gorgeous man in all of cousins. My boyfriend. My Conrad. Looking into his beautiful eyes and watching him, watch me makes my heart beat so fast, I feel like I can't breathe. He runs his hand through his hair and his bangs fall and frame his face. The way they gently swoops inward, drawing attention to his soft and loving eyes, makes me instantly smile. He smiles back and gives his head a shake, knowing how sexy I think he looks after he tossles his hair. I catch him glancing towards my mouth and then back up to my eyes and he sensuously licks his lips. My eyes go directly to his mouth and stare at those luscious lips of his. Red, full, pouty and begging to be kissed.

"Con...," I say again in a breathy and needy voice. He leans in and rests his forehead gently against mine, out lips dangerously close but not touching. I can feel his breath against my skin and we are both starting to breathe a little heavier even though nothing is really happening between us yet.

"Hmmm...," he manages to answer me. His eyes are closed and I close mine too, trying to control my nervousness and get ready to take this next step. I'm ready. More than ready and I know he is too. We have been waiting for so long. Waiting for the timing to be just right and this is it. It won't be either of our first times but in a sense it kind of will be. For me at least. I've never felt like this about anyone before. I've never been so in love, so over the top, head over heels, crazy for someone and I think it's going to make sex feel like a completely new and exciting experience with him. My boyfriend. My Conrad. I can't help but let a huge grin spread across my face at the thought. He must have been able to feel my smile because he pulls away gives me a slightly confused grin.

"Ok y/n, what's up? What are you thinking about that's got you smiling like that," he asks me.

"You," I state, knowingly.

"Me?," he says, dragging out the "e". "What about me...," he asks leaning in for a kiss.

His lips feel like heaven against mine. They're so smooth and so soft. They envelope my own and I can feel him sucking on my bottom lip, silently begging for me to open them. I revel in the way his lips feel against mine for another minute or so before I grant him access. As soon as I part my lips his tongue slowly melds with mine. He kisses me so passionately I feel like I could cum any moment with just his kiss. I can feel his love throughout my entire body and it's set me on fire. He is breathing life into me with every motion and every touch. I let out a throaty moan and I can feel him smirk into me. He pulls away and rests his head against mine again.

"What are you thinking about now," he asks me, brushing the hair off my cheek and pushing it behind my ear. His hand is cupping my face and his forehead is still pressed against mine and I let out a deep and happy sigh. I pull away and look right back into those beautiful eyes and smile.

"I want you," I say to him with every ounce of courage I can muster.

"I want you too, baby," Conrad says to me, putting his lips on my neck. I can feel him start to suck lightly and I almost get lost in it but force myself to focus.

"Come inside with me Con," I say. "Spend the night with me. Please."

The look on his face tells me he's trying not to get too excited yet as he asks me what I mean.

"Like SPEND the night, spend the night or just hang out? Either one is fine with me y/n, you know that. I'm just not sure what you're asking. No pressure."

I smiled sweetly at him and batted my eyes a few times. "Oh, sorry! Let me be more clear." I quickly got onto my knees and climbed onto his lap so I could straddle him. He pushed the seat back and I plopped high to to his lap, clinging to his body. I ran my hands through his hair and draped my arms around his neck and leaned in to kiss him with everything I had in me. His body beneath me started to twitch a little and I could start to feel him getting hard. I lightly grinded over his cock, teasing him until I could start to feel him grinding up in his seat too. I stopped kissing him and let out bodies mash against each other a minute loving the feeling of us almost together. He let out a low and haggard moan and the sound made me instantly wet.

"Fuck me, Con," I whisper. "Take me inside, rip my clothes off and make me scream your name."

He lets out an elated "fuuuuckkkkk" and looks me up and down. "You sure?," he asks me, seriously.

"I've never been more sure of anything," I answer him, matching his serious tone. I start to climb back over to the passenger seat and he helps me swing back over to my side of the car. I start to pick up my purse off the floor and my phone and next think I know, he's out the door and sprinting over to my side. He takes all my stuff in one hand and reaches for me with the other, helping me out if the car.

"Love you," I say to him as he leads me to my door.

"Love you more," he says squeezing my hand, leading us through the door way.

🩵 Thank you so much for reading 🩵

[my-naughty-writings-and-musings]

omfg your writing is SO good!! 😭 if you’re feeling up to it, could you please write some sub mirage x reader! the way you write him is literally perfect 😭🫶

You're too kind! I had so much fun writing that fic! I would love to give that a try, so here you go!

"Come on, you're so mean!" Mirage whined as you removed your fingers from his spike yet again, hips thrusting upwards in open frustration. Watching him wiggle against the bindings keeping his hands over his head, you allowed yourself a grin as the mech once more failed to behave, his desperation for release making him kick up a fuss despite the fact that he'd agreed to the rules. In his defense, you had him quivering and breaking out in a thin sweat of coolant, so even while playing the dominant you were content to let him off the hook for now. 

"We can stop at any time, you know." you reminded him playfully, making a point to smile up from between his legs as the mech pouted down at you. His thoroughly unsatisfied erection throbbed between you, which you ignored as you continued speaking in the most mock sweet voice you could manage, loving how his usual confidence had been replaced with desperation. "That's what the safeword is for."

"That's not what I... I don't want you to stop, I want you to stop teasing me!" he whined in response, bouncing his hips in frustration and making your satisfied grin deepen. In the leadup to this session you'd repeatedly told him what it would entail, including how you'd be pushing him to his limits as the dominant (within the agreed upon parameters, of course), but it was no surprise his impatience was getting the better of him. Truthfully, you just found that added to your fun. Watching him squirm against the bonds you'd tied over his helm gave you a sense of power like no other, and the pleading in his big blue optics only made it all the sweeter. "Seriously, Y/N, I'm gonna overheat before I overload! Can't we skip ahead to the ending?"

"I still think you're missing the idea of what being a "sub" entails." you teased, running your fingers up his heated thighs. Mirage moaned and obediently leaned into your touch, which you rewarded with more focused massages along his transformation seams, using your tiny human fingers to reach where no bot could. His erect spike throbbed at the attention, the biolights pulsing as if trying to draw you in for the relief he needed. It was delicious to deny him and let the pressure continue to build. "Remember what I said? You get what you want when I decide, and I've decided you get it when you're good."

"But I am good! Look at this face!" he pleaded, widening his optics and giving you the most pitiful expression you'd ever seen. It actually stirred a touch of pity in you, but you kept that to yourself, hands resting on his thighs as you kept up your unreadable smirk. His lack of progress made the mech whine once more. "How can you say no to something this cute?"

"Unfortunately, cute doesn't mean well behaved." you teased, compelled to grant him some mercy so long as he played his cards right. Reaching for a tiny bullet vibrator you'd kept hidden in your person, you ensured it was out of sight as you set it to maximum, keeping your face neutral the entire time. Mirage didn't suspect a thing and merely continued to huff and whine, unintentionally giving you an ideal opening when he plopped his helm back on the berth in frustration. Excitement fluttered up from your stomach as you eyed up the most sensitive part of his spike; a stretch of soft mesh just below the head on the underside, and lined up the flattened tip of the vibrator. "Just using the magic word will get you a lot further. So, if you want me to keep doing this..."

All at once, the mech had a powerful buzz running up and down the most tender part of his oversensitive spike, and he responded just as passionately as you'd hoped. 

Arching into your touch as if you were a final lifeline, the big mech cried out in surprise that quickly shifted into openly eager moans for more, his whole frame writhing with ecstasy as you pleasured him. Biting your lip at the beautiful sight, you needed a moment to remember what you'd intended to follow up with, finding him so engrossing you wanted nothing more than to watch him all day. A bead of transfluid on the top of his length gave you the push you needed. "What do you say?"

"Please!" he begged in a rush, optics shut tight and vents heaving out deep, hot blasts of air. The sight sent equal arousal through your own body, and it was a challenge to remember what your original desire was, and that as delightful as this was you hadn't achieved your goal just yet. There was still a little more pushing, a little more denial, just to get him to the point of total need rather than simple want.

Removing the vibrator, you smirked at his resulting cry of betrayal and moved back when he thrust blindly for it to be returned. "Hm? What was th-?"

"Pretty-pretty-pretty-please! With whatever you want on top!" he shouted in total abandon, quivering and near to tears as transfluid dribbled down his throbbing spike. Taken aback but absolutely euphoric at the sight, you let him suffer for only a few additional moments to admire your work: the speedster was dripping with coolant, trembling hard enough to rattle his armor, and so heated that steam was rising from his vents. You weren't sure he'd ever been so pretty.

"That'll work." you said as you granted him mercy, bringing the vibrator back to his spike and rubbing it in with a not insignificant amount of force. His voice trembled as he moaned in relief, hips spasming as more fluid dribbled down the length of his spike and he closed in on his overload. The transfluid helped lubricate your actions, making it that much easier to slide up and down his length with one hand whilst the other wrapped around the base to keep him somewhat still. You could feel by the way he thrust into your hand that you owned him completely, and he wouldn't have denied it even if he had the capacity to speak. The total submission was rewarded with even more passionate ministrations, your shoulders growing sore from the speed of your pumps and your breath coming fast from the strain as you pleasured him for all you were worth. 

Mirage came right to the very precipice of release, and you used the opportunity to whisper a final bit of encouragement, playing the Ace he had never wanted to admit you had.

"Good boy."

Mirage came with a gush of transfluid that made your eyes go wide in awe, the heavy ropes splattering on his front and surging from his spike at a volume that would have been more fitting for a bot twice his size. Every throb of his spike spread your fingers as it rolled up his length, the explosive release coming with cries of euphoric relief that shook the walls of the garage. Only your dedication to him allowed you to muster up the focus to do more than watch, the gorgeous spectacle of the mech's release as enrapturing as it was overdue. A thick, sticky mess coated the entirety of his front by the time the overload finally faded, and you felt his spike go from hard as a rock to limp in your grasp as his frame did the same. His body collapsed with enough force to make the berth tremble, and were it not for a murmur you'd have thought him unconscious. It didn't seem a stretch to say you'd done a marvelous job.

"I don't remember saying you could finish, but I'll let it slide." you teased as you clicked off the vibrator and crawled up the berth. Mirage tried to reply something snarky, but the words came out as nothing more than another slurred murmur, his optics blinking at you unevenly as you arrived at his helm. Ego thoroughly pleased with his current state, you merely cupped the side of his helm and chuckled before laying a kiss on his crest, looking down at his steaming, sticky frame and swelling with pride at a job well done. 

"Let's give you a few minutes to recuperate. Then, you can return the favor..." you encouraged gently, hoping he'd be coherent before the end of the evening. In the meantime, you were quite content to cuddle him as he purred through the bliss of the afterglow, loving how he behaved more like a giant cat than a warrior after all you'd done to him. You adored his sass, obviously, but sometimes it was just nice to leave him speechless.

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Saw Skizz on your list of people you write for while going through your request info again so I just had to request something!!

I just know being held in his big beefy arms is like heaven on earth! So maybe some sweet cuddling in bed on a nice warm day?

Love your writing so so so much!! -XB anon ❤️

I love me some beefy arms, just ask my fiancé haha (no but really I will swoon). I've mentioned this in a previous post but this is actually very much influenced by my relationship with my fiancé who is on his last night shift of the week when this is posted. It's a hard time for us both but it's worth it when he gets home. All this to say, if you want to write one of the biggest tips I'd give is to draw from real emotions and experiences. It really helps to give a subtle bit of depth which gives your readers an easier time feeling that emotion themselves!

Working Late

Drabble Contains: Fluff -------------------

This evening has been hard, you knew it was coming but it has still been hard.

Skizz had told you he really wanted to finish his shop and would do so by any means necessary, the problem was that that meant you'd had to spend the evening alone, which was fine. You'd sorted a few bits out around the house, walked the dogs, made sure that everything was in order for the morning. It was all fine.. except for one problem.

The one problem came when it was time for bed, which was that you'd have to go to bed. Alone. You'd hoped you could stay awake until Skizz got home, but that wasn't the case.

Once midnight had hit you were falling asleep on the sofa, which the dogs seemed more annoyed at than you. They liked that spot.

So, begrudgingly, you'd made your way to the bathroom, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and gone to bed.

You'd had a miserable time falling asleep. It was too cold and too quiet without him there. You tried to read, but your eyes couldn't focus on the words. You tried to listen to music, but it just wasn't the vibe. So you'd given up and laid there until you'd eventually fallen asleep.

Until a few moments ago, when you woke up. The room is still as dark as can be, you're still exhausted. Groggily, you reach over to the side table and tap the button on the clock. 3.37am. It's been an hour, maybe a bit more. You're unsure what time your really managed to get to sleep.

It's still cold, you're still alone. Your heart sinks. He probably won't be back tonight. So you pull the duvet closer, attempting to fall back into your slumber.

You can hear your own breaths, the sound of your heart beating. It's just not the same without him here. It's not as easy, doesn't feel as safe.

Yet, slowly your body begins to relax, darkness taking back over. You barely register the sound of the door, the shuffling, or at least you're too far into sleep to be able to react.

A familiar weight moves the mattress, duvet going with it as he takes his usual spot. You make some sort of grumbling noise at being disturbed, but a sigh escapes you as he gets close.

One arm drapes itself over you, then pulls you in. One strong, familiar arm. His voice is sleepy too, muttering "don't you grumble at me it's time for cuddles."

You feel yourself smile, possibly only internally, although it's too dark to know. Not that you could see your face without a mirror anyway.

You shuffle to get more comfy pressed up against him, warming up quickly. Then you shuffle again to stuff some blanket between the two of you to stop the heat. "Just that hot am I?" He giggles, clearly about to drift off. Somehow you find it in you to respond, "don't need heating when I have you." He lets out an amused huff, but like you is too tired to say any more.

The silence is filled with the soft sound of his breathing, plus your cozy and warm now. That's not even to mention how safe you feel being in his arms again, those wonderful arms that are so strong holding you so carefully against him.

With what you're sure is a soft sigh you're able to comfortably drift into a peaceful slumber, dreaming only of Skizz, how much you love him, and the wonderful arms that leave you feeling so safe and secure (and flustered, but it's a calm, peaceful sleep. Sue me.)

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men react to Their Thirsty fanart?😊

Ooooooo oh my gosh I love this!!! I hope you liked the characters I picked! If you'd like to see others just let me know! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Reacting to their thirsty fanarts~༺}

A/n: Slightly suggestive! A lot of characters this time because I went alittle crazy! (None of the artwork in this is mine! If you look in the reblogs the artists names are there! All credit goes to them and thank you again to that person who sourced them for me!)

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Wanderer, Kazuha, Childe and Neuvillette!)

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𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc would clear his throat, inspecting the picture while his cheeks became tinted with a light pink colour, his hand running through his firey red hair as he tried to think of what to say, settling with a safer answer. "Well...this is certainly a very amazing piece of artwork. It does however seem a bit...suggestive...flattering yes, but not very true to life. I've personally never held my claymore in that way or sat in that particular.. position. Still, I thank you respectfully for taking your time to draw me...even if it might have given others a bit to much...inspiration."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney would take one look at the picture, a smirk playing on his lips as his violet eyes clouded over with mischief and flattery, possibly even a tad bit of lust, "Seems I've caught the attention of some incredible artists, their work is truly magnifique! Hmm..., because they've drawn me so beautifully and one of the main things a magician is supposed to do is please his watchers, I'll do a little comparison between the art and myself...so you can all see it for real~" He'd tip his hat before starting to recreate the pose, arching his back slightly and winking in your direction, his finger up against his mouth as he shushed you, his other hand holding the ace of hearts just right so you could see it. Seems he enjoys the attention the fanarts give him, even to the point of hoping everyone will creat more~

𑁍༄Albedo:

(...is he wearing bottoms in this picture? Cause like I'm not gonna lie...I'm not really sure...)

"Goodness..." Albedo would stare at the artwork of himself for a moment, trying to collect his words as even his pale skin turned cherry red. His voice would be shaky because of his flustered state and he'd mess up words whenever he glanced at the picture, but eventually he'd manage to say this,"I don't really know where t-to begin, I mean the art itself is impeccable, v-very stylised...and ehem...the artist clearly...k-knows their anatomy. I-...thank you for drawing me." He'd look away, his heart racing in his chest and his mind plagued with new thoughts like...would he actually look good in that situation...would people want to see it...should he...try it?

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer would look at the picture, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open for a second, "W-what the hell is this?!? Why am I w-wet in it??? Perverts!" He'd clench his hands into fists, putting on quite the show as he tossed the drawing behind him and stomped away like he's just been highly offended...even though deep down, he found it slightly...appealing. To think someone actually had the nerve to draw him so scandalously...perhaps he'd have to find the artists who had done so, just to show them how wrong of a choice they'd made~

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Oh my..." Kazuha would say, a blush spreading across his face and his calm personality faltering for just a second, before he quickly recomposed himself, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he chose the best words to say, "The art is very beautiful, I must say they've flattered me alot though...I don't truthfully look like that...not nearly as handsome. As for the marks...on the n-neck, I don't currently have any..." He'd probably mean that last sentence as a means to say he wasn't currently in a relationship, but to anyone who had heard it...they took it as a invitation to give him some~

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe would smile happily, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed and his chest slightly puffed up with pride, "Comrades please, you all make me blush, the art is wonderful and in no small part because I'm in it...,but I assure you the real thing is better. I win, even in regards to myself.." He'd wink at you, leaving you captivated by his charm even though what he had said sounded silly.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette would look at the art for awhile, his purple hued eyes widening as he scanned it into his memory and rested his chin in his hand, his long white hair drapping over his shoulders as he wondered if someone had caught him changing, since how could they make something so accurate otherwise... "Apologies, but where did you get this again? The drawing itself is indeed very beautiful and well crafted, I believe the artist who made this should be very proud...I'm just curious how they know what I look like shirtless...and who else might know as well."

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ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ���‧₊˚I hope you enjoyed*⁠.⁠✧

(Open!) Taglist: @kiokiee

[nadianova]

How much time do you spend planning some of your visual novels? At least going by some of them being jam submissions, it feels like you go from pre-production to a finished build very quickly, and it's amazing how you can manage that while still having an awesome story and so many assets.

Also, what is like, the process of planning a story out for you, if there's any vague or concrete similarities that you've noticed?

i think the important context here is that if i get bored/have nothing to do i jhust immediately get really suicidal its like ridiculous how bad it gets(ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT IVE HAD 5 YEARS OF THERAPY). so i hate being bored and want to occupy my time wit something fun whatever that is. if i have a project to focus on but especially if I'm working for a game jam i have a deadline and i just decide to myself okay i will release a game now.

because ive made a decent amount of games i roughly have an idea on my capabilities, i can estimate how long it takes for me to write a story so and so long and how long it takes for me to draw stuff i need and how long it takes for me to throw stuff in renpy. these are estimates like as in I'm not accurate with it but still enough that i generally know where to start cutting ideas since the most important part is just having something to submit. i also know to plan around my brain wanting to slam my head into a wall an my hands suddenly giving up on being able to draw.

i think thats the beauty of game jams it forces you to just go for it and release something. releasing a 'bad' game is better than no game at all. experience only comes over time and i think just going for it is the best approach there is. like its literally 2 weeks 1 month whatever of your life. if you have the time and motivation go for it. make it work or fuck it up it wont matter in the grand scheme of things

im not sure what is the motivation behind the question but i do want to point out that this is just my method (if you can even call it a method) and the only way to figure out what works for you is to just try until you find something that actually works for you

idk not everyone will find it doable/fun to plan around spending two weeks gamedev 10 hours a day just cause i wanted to fit in 100 cgs for a jam game but apparently i can do that when i cheat my stupid adhd brain into hyperfocus with adhd meds

READMORE BECAUSE I CANT STOP RAMBLING

as for planning tho i think ideas on their own are worthless and its always about execution in the end. a great idea or a meh idea are the same for me but i do still enjoy the planning process so i keep notes

like i see a great tumblr post or i see some art or visual novel has some scene that inspires me: i save that shit for myself

having a big collection of random floating ideas like that helps me easily pick from especially during a jam type duration. right now i have like 4-5 half-baked project skeletons, some are literally like 3 pictures and some like naomida are a hundred hours worth of me writing world building about how the toilets work in a city with no plumbing cause its -30celcius(i love bringing this up)=

i dont normally plan that much, i tend to just wing it. like for malmaid i seriously just had some rough ideas and just went along as i wrote

same thing for dddeviance i had a handful of scenes that i really wanted to make and knew what kind of start and end it was meant to have and just figured out how to fill the in between. a lot of plot points changed vastly like halfway through i realised my devil + angel combination was stupid and i should just go for fallen angel + angel.

i think there really is no simple answer tho (as evident from the long as hell post) i don't really have a 'process' because every single game has been worked on has come with different type of planning since I'm always trying new stuff to try and distract me from boredom. like I've been using obsidian for naomida while previously I've just used a empty discord serve as my notes app for malmaid and dddeviance

and tbh with naomida I'm running to a new problem where I'm definitely planning too much. like I'm spending too much time fidgeting with details in chapter 4 even when i haven't finished writing chapter 1 just cause its so easy to get in the loop of "oh ill just change this one line" and boom 20 mins spent playing with my notes that didn't really progress my game since by the time i reach this point the whole scene might have shifted to something else

.

but if i had to squeeze an answer itd be something like everything related to my art or writing or games is just like "oooooo that seems fun i should remember this for later" and then i just string 10-100 of those into a story

i tend to write my stories in a format of

character A does this and that

this happens here

puppy play ryona piss orgasm

new day and then this happens here

sad thing happens

more piss orgasm

the end

and just like start filling in more details and working on my story in a nonlinear fashion until i feel like i have a strong enough skeleton that i can start writing my scenes. i hop around a lot, often preferring to write the fun scenes first like ero stuff or the ones I'm the most interested in and then the rest is just filling the blanks and stringing the cool scenes together

[allwormdiet]

Arc 2: Insinuation, Concluding Thoughts

God, was this arc just one day? You're telling me it's only been like 72 hours since the start of the story and where we're at now? It feels like so much more somehow, so I guess let's get digging

Let's do the broad strokes and then go chronological through the chapter details, I don't have any kind of structure or template for this stuff but that's as good a way as any right here

I know there's so much fucking ground left to cover, but at this point I think I'm confident enough to say that I like Worm. I don't know if I'd recommend it to a friend, exactly, because I think it's rude to trick someone into reading more than a million words and also because the list of content warnings I'd have to provide up front would run longer than my forearm (I knew what I was in for going in but I also made this choice mostly independently), but I feel like there's a difference between liking a work and recommending that work to others. I think Midsommar is one of the best horror movies I've ever seen, but it also removed all the oxygen from the living room where I watched it via sheer oppressive malice so I don't really tell people "oh you should watch Midsommar," y'know what I mean?

(I don't actually know if Worm is at any point going to fill me with the same kind of yawning dread that Midsommar inflicted, so this might not be an even parallel to draw, but I'm not going to completely dismiss the possibility)

More on topic though. No fight scenes this time, but that left more room for delicious and filling character interactions. I'm so on board with the Undersiders so quickly, I love them all, the things they're going to be made to suffer are going to agonize me for years to come I think.

It also left more room for Taylor's day at Winslow High, and... okay we'll get there. Let's do this chronologically.

The Hebert family feels like it's a broken heart in the shape of a house. I wish that they could reconcile with each other, but I don't know if they manage that, or if they even can manage it. I think Annette's death tore a wound between them that never fully healed, or maybe it was on the mend before Taylor started getting bullied and now that process has just stalled out

...Speaking of which

Winslow High is a fucking pit. Like Jesus fucking Christ that was so agonizing to read. Everyone at this school feels either useless or brimming with malice, and for the life of me I cannot puzzle out why. I mean, okay, I get the mechanisms at least, the main three girls are popular and Sophia is a Ward and with that together they can bend the students and faculty around like putty, people are often willing to go along with a heinous status quo if rocking the boat puts a target on their back, yadda yadda. But just. What the hell is going on with the main three girls? You could maybe read Sophia as some kind of sadist, but that doesn't explain why she's taking to this with such gusto, and I don't know if this kind of behavior wouldn't be caught out by the Protectorate if she's acting like this around other Wards. Madison I don't even know, so far I don't actually know if there's any meaningful depth there beyond acting as a complementary force to the other two.

Emma, though. Fucking Emma. I was just talking in an aside about how I distrust any argument that paints a mostly realistic teenager as some kind of soulless monster or evil mastermind, and I'm trying really hard to cleave to that, but I just don't get what drives Emma to behave like this, how she justifies it in her own head. She's torturing her best friend, she triggered her power's awakening for God's sake, and I just don't know what can happen in a week or month that could ever make this explicable or justifiable. Maybe I'll learn something that makes it all make sense but for now it's just some kind of incomprehensible monument of cruelty

That last twist of the knife with the line about crying to sleep at night is also just. God. Like, fucking credit to Wildbow, I feel some amount of stress writing about this all like the day after reading it, that was a really really well written sequence, I just also hated every word of it.

Let's change to a happier topic

Love the Undersiders, they're all great. I love that Brian works so hard to meet on a level playing field, to be open about expectations and show vulnerability to make Taylor feel more welcome, and I like how he seems to take pride in being The Normal & Responsible One even though I somehow doubt that's the case. I love Lisa being so friendly and so quick to assure Taylor about what's going on and what it all means for her, and I literally can't stop thinking about what she must be reading off of Taylor with her powers. Alec is a snarky little snot and I love that about him, I really want to see him open up further. And then Rachel... oh Rachel. You might end up being my favorite once we manage to move past the whole "siccing dogs on the new teammate" thing.

And now Taylor's a part of the crew, and she's immediately second-guessing this decision because she's realizing that it had deeper repercussions than she'd initially thought! Like she already felt betrayed by all of them over a slight from Rachel, even though her entire goal of joining them is as a means to take them down from the inside and hand them over to the Protectorate, and that irony is absolutely not lost on her! She's terrified of being found out as a rat but still lets herself be vulnerable around these people in a way she hasn't even allowed her dad to see, and before the Undersiders he was basically the only person she still trusted for anything.

This is like, either the best or worst decision of Taylor's life, I dunno which. I'd like to think best. I'd really like it to be best.

And I think I already said this but I could gorge myself on just reading about the Undersiders fighting and growing and bonding together for the entire length of this story, and I want it so bad, and I'm not getting it until I dig up the appropriate fanfiction to that end so I'm just gonna have to cope with that

Basically fell in love with Victoria the moment I met her, I wish her the best and hope she learns to cut down on the accidental spine-breaking (if she breaks a spine on purpose they probably deserved it)

Amy... at this point I mostly just feel bad for Amy. She's gonna do bad things and a lot of it's gonna be her own damn fault but somehow I doubt she was born a monster.

New Wave in general I get weird vibes from. Like the Protectorate are cops, yeah, and cops suck no matter the uniform, but New Wave does it with nobody watching over their shoulders to check their work except for each other, and we see in their first on-page appearance how that's kinda fucked up!

...Like the guy was a Nazi so fuck him, but I don't have full faith it'll be a Nazi every time, y'know? God knows there's every chance Glory Girl or Brandish or whoever else decides to play this kind of hardball with someone a lot less guilty and a lot more sympathetic

And then speaking of the repercussions of Taylor's actions, again I'm looking at the threat of destabilization and gang warfare facing the Docks and wondering how much of the story's escalating danger is going to be a natural response to her deeds. Somehow I don't think Leviathan's attack is going to be Taylor's fault, or that she called up the Slaughterhouse 9, but she keeps making calls that are good but have unintended and dangerous consequences.

Call me crazy but I don't think I'm gonna like what those consequences look like when she acts to save the world. I'd rather she be happy than the world's greatest hero, but she wasn't even happy before she became a cape, so. Maybe she gets a legacy in the doing.

If that falls through I guess I'll just go read more fanfic.

[risestarkiss]

Hey, so I was thinking about your post about the Timeline Paradox Photo from the movie, and I've been turning it over in my head for a few days (I love timeline nonsense, I've spent hours on LoZ timeline theory, this is my bread and butter) and anyhow I think I figured it out actually.

So, to start, we're dealing with two timelines--the main movie timeline, and the bad future timeline, with the photo originating in the bad future timeline. First, we need to know when does the movie timeline diverge from the bad future timeline, and that would be as soon as Casey emerges from the time portal. Obviously in the bad future timeline Casey didn't exist at the time the Kraang invaded bc he wasn't born yet, so the whole "butterfly effect" thing was immediately in effect as soon as he popped out of the portal and therefore the movie timeline split off from the bad future timeline as soon as Casey shows up. This means there's a window of time from when Casey came out of the portal to when the Kraang were released from the prison dimension (or possibly later to when they summoned their main ship from the top of the tall building) for the photo to have logically been taken (since obviously no one's going to be taking wholesome family photos while the apocalypse is unfolding).

So then, let's look at the events as we know them for fact from the movie timeline. Before Casey finds April, a few things happen. First, the turtles fail to retrieve the key, but since they don't realize how important it is, they just head back to the Lair to chill for a bit. Second, April steals the vials of herbicide (er, whatever the blue goopy stuff was) from her college, and then encounters Casey. And then the rest of the movie unfolds the way it does bc Casey warns them about, y'know, the impending alien invasion and general doom of the world. Which means the team crashes the summoning party before the Kraang are able to pull out their weapons (possibly their exoskeletons? I'm thinking it's got to be the exoskeletons they were gonna try and nab, and not the main warship). Anyhow, this sets off the domino chain to lead to, well, all the other movie events.

Now, what happened then in the bad future timeline? With no Casey at that specific moment in time? My best guess is: the turtles fail to retrieve the key and head back to the Lair. April steals the herbicide from her college and then what? She's got a dangerous substance that she doesn't know a lot about, so it's possible she also heads to the Lair to have Donnie analyze it for her. And hey, she pulled off a cool ninja mission on her own and is making progress on her road to being an investigative reporter, that's something to celebrate and maybe even commemorate, so someone pulls out a camera and they all take The Group Photo (as to who's holding the camera, I mean, Donnie's got all sorts of tech that I'm sure could accommodate taking a picture of the group). Meanwhile, the Foot Clan frees the Kraang, and the Kraang are able to get their exoskeletons (again, this is a guess, but they seem much more powerful and protected w/ the exoskeletons, so), and no one is the wiser bc there was no tip off. The Kraang then make their way to the highest point in the city (big tall building who's name escapes me, sorry) and summon their main warship, which sets the apocalypse in motion. Given the lapse of time the turtles and April aren't able to react quickly enough to do anything to really stop the Kraang (and even if they could, the Kraang already have All Their Weapons)--intead, they manage to save enough survivors and go into hiding, allowing for Casey to be born and for the bad future timeline to unfold until it reaches what we get to see at the start of the movie.

So, that's my best theory for when the photo was taken and how it's not actually a true paradox or inconsistency. Actually, it could even double (or triple) as a really poetic bit of narrative writing, since future-Leo draws the image of the key that will release the Kraang on the back of the photo, the photo is an image of the people who are key to stopping the Kraang, and if the photo was taken/created on the day that everything started, then it might be a sort of temporal key to help Mikey's mystic powers guide Casey backwards in time to the exact day the photo was originally taken so that he could try and change the future.

Sorry for the really long anon ask, I'm super new to tmnt and am still getting a feel for things, so I was a bit too shy to just write this all out in a reblog of your original post. But I love your blog, thanks for writing all these fun analyses!

I’ve been thinking this over as well + having some great discussions on the original post. 😁 I completely agree with the divergence of the timelines happening once Casey comes out of the portal, and I do think that the happy family photo would have been interrupted by Casey’s appearance. But yeah, your explanation makes complete sense.

The twist on the key on the photo is such an interesting take!   Thanks so much for the insight and welcome to the fandom 😊! Aww, it’s my pleasure. I love these silly little guys 😄💜

[sandra-writes]

Harrison Slytherin is not dead!

I know, I know - one more year has passed and still no news on my little Harry Potter re-write. But I've been surprisingly productive on that front latley, so hopefully this really is the last update you'll get from me before I am ready to upload the next school year.

And what do I have so far? A whooping 233k words, so once I actually manage to finish it, edit it and post it, there should be plenty to read before the drought comes back. As for how am I doing story-wise, I am writing a scene in the second half of June 1995, so I am really hoping to be done with the school year before long.

However, there is a lot of editing in my future, so please, don't get your hope too up. Still, I am mostly optimistic about not needing to write another post in a year for fourth anniversary.

And as a little treat, I have a small surprise for you under the cut once again. Hopefully it won't disappoint.

Love, Sandra

Harry is not happy about being in the uniform on a Sunday, but this time he understands it. There are two other schools coming and since this meeting is at least semi-formal, school uniforms for everyone involved makes sense. It even makes sense for everyone to stand with their own house and by their grades. If nothing else, first years in the front means that they might even see something. What that something is going to be, on the other hand…

“How do you think they are coming?” Harry asks quietly once they’re all piled in front of the school. He has Pansy to one side of him and Draco on the other. Theo stands next to Draco with Blaise next to him and on the other side of Pansy are the girls. The fifth years are right behind them with the prefects standing at the ends of their rows and the third years are in front of them. Daniel took his place in front of Theo and Harry smiled when he saw it, unsure whether Daniel did it on purpose or just absently.

“In a flashy way, certainly,” Pansy grumbles a bit, obviously displeased how… common their display is. But then again, they’re already here and it’s hard to make an impression that way. “Maybe by water?” But she sounds uncertain as she glances at the Great Lake. Harry slowly nods.

“It would make sense, wouldn’t it? The river leads straight to the sea, doesn’t it?”

Pansy shrugs just when Dumbledore speaks up.

“Ah! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”

With one last look towards the lake (where nothing happens), Harry looks towards the Forbidden Forest while Draco looks up, Pansy following his lead a beat after him. Excitement rolls throughout the student body, but while the Slytherins and Ravenclaws are busy looking around, Hufflepuffs whisper among themselves and Gryffindors outright yell. Luckily, Harry is so far away from Gryffindors that he doesn’t understand what they’re saying.

“There!” Draco whispers, excited, and all the people around them check to see where he’s looking. Harry catches it just when it soars above the forest, the dark shape of it quickly soaring to the ground in between them and the forest. It’s a big, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage pulled by a dozen Abraxans. Harry can’t help his awed look as the carriage draws close. A number of first years jump back when it comes hurling towards the students, but the Abraxans touch down and then with a thud the carriage lands and they stop just in time to be perfectly positioned in front of the Hogwarts students.

A young man in pale blue robes jumps off the carriage and unstraps a set of golden stairs that unfold from the carriage. Then he steps back a bit and out of the carriage steps the tallest, biggest woman Harry has ever seen. Dressed in black satin, her tan face looks towards Hogwarts with her dark eyes, her hair drawn back into a simple, but elegant bun.

She steps out of the carriage and stays looking at them. Then Dumbledore starts to clap and Harry hesitantly joins him. He hoped there would be a better greeting for their guests than this muggle way of showing awe.

“My dear Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore says happily as he steps closer to her. And Dumbledore is not a short man, but as this Madame Maxime hands him her hand, he hardly needs to bend to kiss it.

“A half-giant?” Pansy asks in bewilderment. Harry frowns but doesn’t look at her.

“Well, she is the headmistress of Beauxbatons,” Draco says carefully as Madame Maxime exchanges pleasantries with Dumbledore in heavily accented English. “And although I am not fond of Hagrid, he is not… giant-ish.”

“There’s not much about cross-species breeding,” Harry hears Theo say softly, obviously not wanting anyone to overhear, “but there is some evidence that when it comes to wizard-giantess breeding, the child though looking… unusually big is more like a wizard than a giant.  And she is the headmistress. It will be fine.”

He doesn’t sound entirely sure of it himself, but Harry is still glad for the vote of confidence.

Harry keeps an ear on the niceties exchanged between the two heads of schools, but most of his attention is turned towards the handful of students who exited the carriage after Madame Maxime. There’s about twenty of them, all in robes or, in cases of girls, dresses with short capes in pastel colours. There are five different colours of these… uniforms; pale blue that the boy that opened the carriage for Madame Maxime wore, mint green, pale pink, light violet, and light yellow. Three girls also have matching scarfs draped over their heads, hiding their hair, and Harry is a bit surprised to see that. Isn’t hair a source of pride for witches?

There are also two adults standing with these students, a man and a woman, both wearing something similar to their students, though it’s obviously not uniform. The woman is wearing a blue dress with long sleeves reaching almost to her ankles. The dress is dark blue, and her light brown hair is tucked into a fancy hairstyle at the skull of her head with a delicate-looking headband making it a touch fancier. The man has short blonde hair and blue robes that manage to be lighter than the woman’s dress yet darker than the blue of the uniform of their students. Harry’s eyes stray towards him and a student in a pale blue dress with platinum hair. She fidgets a bit with a loose strand of silvery hair, the rest of which is braided in a half-circle at the lower part of her head, with tiny white flowers woven into it. It takes considerable effort for Harry to pull his attention away from them.

Madame Maxime accepts Dumbledore’s offer to go warm up in the castle, which gives them some moments before Durmstrang arrives. Harry leans closer to Pansy.

“Have you seen the scarfs?”

Pansy frowns a bit as she glances at him before looking around again. The whole student body is a little louder than before, everyone talking either about the Beauxbatons students or how Durmstrang is possibly coming.

“I’ve heard about that. Apparently, it’s something about religion?”

By Pansy’s confused voice, Harry guesses the religion in question is muggle. That makes him frown as well.

“How many muggle religions are there?”

Pansy smirks and shrugs, but as she opens her mouth Harry frowns and raises his hand, stopping her from speaking. He swears he can hear something…

Darkness fell slowly, so that now Harry almost can’t see the Dark Lake. But he swears that he can hear a sound coming from there.

And of course, that’s when the whirlpool in the Great Lake starts. Harry and Pansy take a second to smirk at each other, before they turn their attention to the lake just in time to watch a great ship rise from the water. It looks somewhat ghostly and makes shivers run down Harry’s spine, but it still looks majestic.

In a few minutes they can all hear the splash of an anchor being thrown in the shallows and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank. Soon after, they watch the Durmstrang students disembark. There’s also around twenty of them and as they walk up their way to the Hogwarts students, they all seem to have wide shoulders and figure to match it, but as they come closer it becomes obvious that it’s just an illusion created by their furry coats.

There is just one figure that looks slim and elegant from far away. And when they come close enough to recognize them, it’s obvious that it is the headmistress. Her coat looks sleeker and more fitted, but she does have the same warm hat as everyone else.

“Professor Dumbledore,” she curtly nods at him as she steps closer to him, her voice a little rough, but commanding respect. She offers her hand and Dumbledore grasps her forearm in greeting.

“Professor Kopachesky,” Dumbledore smiles at her, his eyes twinkling. “Welcome to Hogwarts!”

“It’s warmer than we were expecting this time of the year.” Her accent isn’t as strong as Maxime’s, but it’s still palpable. Clearly east European, but Harry is not sure it’s actually a Russian one. “Sorry for the delay. Your octopus was not too happy to see us.”

“Yes, yes, she’s a little protective of her territory,” Dumbledore laughs, and shivers run down Harry’s spine. He’s going to guess Dumbledore’s laughter is fake, then, as is his cordiality with Durmstrang’s headmistress. “Come, come. Madame Maxime already arrived, so we can start the feast.”

Oh joy.

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Director's Cut of "Good Rich Earth" please?

"Good Rich Earth" is one of the easiest writing experiences I've ever hand. This one just flowed. No hesitation. No laboring over words. I don't know if I've ever had a story come this easily.

I had zero intentions of writing a retelling of "The Secret Garden". Then you mentioned the potential for a fantasy retelling, and I instantly started wondering how such a thing could be done.

You taught me that a proper Secret Garden retelling has to center around childhood emotional neglect, so it quickly turned to sci-fi, because the first line that came to me was, "Raised practically by robots, the poor thing!"

With that, I had my premise. Mary was raised on a military space station by parents who left her in the care of robot nannies. She'd never been on a planet. (I've long wanted to write a story involving space-raised children who have culture shock when they come to a planet, and this fit perfectly.) The story would involve her coming to appreciate the wonders of nature.

Then I just started writing. Instantly. (This was much more appealing than the Chesterton Challenge idea I had originally sat down to write).

When writing about the bleak landscape of Mary's new home, I decided that this would be a ruined post-apocalyptic Earth, to make the landscape seem bleaker and more hateful to the newly-arrived Mary, and the Secret Garden seem more wondrous by comparison. I sometimes wonder if that was the right choice, because I put zero thought into what kind of apocalypse it was, beyond giving it the appallingly generic label of "The Disasters", and this layer might interfere too much with the rest of the story. But it does tie in with the original's themes of recovering from neglect and learning to care for others--the entire planet has been neglected and needs care to come back to life.

I just love how that paragraph about Mary hating everything about Earth allowed me to provide so much worldbuilding and characterization so easily.

I share Ben's disdain for hydroponics.

(Once I finished the draft, I skimmed it in search of ideas for titles. I was surprised to find that Ben's rant contained the perfect one--he's talking about dirt and gardening, but it also works in reference to Mary coming to appreciate the goodness of the planet Earth.)

It's interesting how I was able to keep the story and exposition flowing by just bringing in character voices (like Martha's explanation about the garden) without giving them actual scenes. It's something I didn't even think about--it just happened, and I don't know how, since it's not my usual style. It probably only works because this is a fanfic one-shot where you're expected to know the characters already.

And then I just kind of dither along, stretching out a story with Mary doing nothing but walking outside. I probably leaned too much on the robin finding things. After describing the way the door appears, I have a tough time believing Mary didn't find it on her own--why does a robin's wing set it off and not Mary walking around the wall?

You can probably see me flailing to find ways to make this sci-fi, making up tech on the fly. I mostly justified it, I think--the hologram roof's a bit of a stretch. Maybe the door, too. But that seems like something that would be good to have if you could pull it off (though I really hope there are safety features that keep people from being locked inside without a key). I do love that Mary's space station experience gives her the knowledge to open the Secret Garden's door.

I do like that description of the Secret Garden. I tried not to draw too much from any previous description/depiction of it, and I was careful not to use plant names, because Mary wouldn't know any of them. I think it managed to show the garden without getting too long-winded/flowery.

Of course I had to end by describing the garden as magical.

[sodafrog13]

hotline 1 character gamer thoughts.. bc i've been thinking abt it a lot. under the cut for convenience :-)

jacket: fighting and racing games, also more "chill" stuff like stardew valley but that's just bc he likes running around and doing fuck all. if he and gf play together, she's managing the farm like she's running the navy and he's just off fishing or running around in circles while digging thru ppl's trash and maybe doing things on gf's behalf if she asks him to. he can fuck you up in most arcade games tho; he particularly loves those light gun ones and he's like scary good at claw machines (which is great bc he can win beard or gf prizes :V)

gf: she and jacket share a lot of the same tastes; esp when it comes to fighting/racing stuff. they're both pretty equally good at fighting stuff (jacket's a little better) but she's way better at racing stuff ironically enough, even tho she doesn't actually know how to drive. also enjoys boomer shooters (jacket likes them too but not rly to play; he enjoys watching her play them tho) and beat 'em ups. also a little more niche but i think she'd also like those types of games where you have to sort things; thinks they're satisfying and helps with her compulsive need to sort things irl

beard: i don't think he's much of a video game person but i think that guy would love any sort of table top game. like i'm convinced he would rlly fw m:tg and dnd, y'k? things that require a lot of thought and maybe theatrics (and also things jacket would very much Not be into but i think he'd go w beard to competitions as like. his moral support lol). video games wise tho, he'd probs like. idk, minesweeper or 2048 LOL something that's just kinda supposed to keep you preoccupied rather than entertained. but also maybe smth like inscryption and buckshot roulette; i think he'd like the style of those and the strategizing aspect (maybe not story so much)

biker: oh this guy would fuck so heavy w typing of the dead. that and shit like guitar hero; i know at heart this jackass has a little bit of nerd in xem no matter how much xe may try to deny it. xe's also into boomer shooters/beat 'em ups/shmups but also xe typically gets tired of them relatively quickly so xyr library is like filled w games of those types that all have like a max of 5 hours on them each; very much does not give a shit abt secrets or any sort of story aspect. can fuck you up in tetris tho, xe'd probs do that shit that doremy does where he places blocks on the beat of the music. also weirdly good at pinball but refuses to admit it

richter: this man has 1000+ hrs on tf2 and almost all of them are on sniper. he spends most of his time on never-ending ctf servers and has gotten accused of being a bot more times than he can count. the only thing that can prove he's not is the fuck all rare unusual he got by accident and australium stock sniper rifle. he does not speak in VC. he does not type in TC. he uses voice commands and taunts only. he can and will single handedly carry your team to victory. you should uber him, and i'm not joking about that at all. he is a man to be feared. he also helps his mom with the sudoku and crossword in the paper every morning.

richard: i think it'd like uhm. weird art games. or i guess, as jacob geller puts it, games that are not games. that and weird/horror/unsettling(?) (j)rpgs. LSD dream emulator, yume nikki, ib, witch's house, who's lila?, IMSCARED, and anything that's sort of... meant to be an experience rather than an actual game (drawing blanks rn but presentable liberty obvs comes to mind). likes to ponder/analyze things and also enjoys things where you gotta fuck around w the files to find out more stuff, it's like a little treasure hunt to it. also think it would like firewatch, both for the story and also bc it likes watching the sunsets in that game.

don juan: boomer shooters also but its mostly the newer stuff that catches her eye; stuff like the new blood boomer shooter trio (ULTRAKILL, dusk, amid evil) and cruelty squad would b right up her alley (and she'd totally be a tryhard about all of them). she also rly likes puzzle games tho! stuff like bubble poppers and tetris/puyo puyo tetris especially, but she can also keep herself occupied for A While just by playing solitaire. oh and minecraft. i think she'd rly like minecraft. terrarria, too, esp either of them modded, i think she'd have a lot of fun w them. def one of those ppl who gets all the minecraft achievements by herself, no cheats, on the hardest difficulty. bc she can, mostly.

rasmus: also not as big a video game person but they can and will crush you at chess (DJ's not as good but they play together sometimes; they specifically go easy on her). not as big a fan of it but they do also enjoy tetris/ppt; they and DJ will play together sometimes and rich will watch that shit like it's coco melon lol. part of me also wants to say they might enjoy desk jockeys? like papers, please and death and taxes (and i guess by extension, things that can enact moral/philosophical quandaries), but also maybe not; i think they usually get a lot more entertainment out of books and cinema/movies than games

[infinitethree]

Have you ever met a version of darkza that was kind?

Day makes a face like he’s insulted. To be fair, he is; the question is absurd to him on quite a few levels. His wings flick in annoyance as he answers,  "I've only met the one. If I could have snapped his wings off and stuffed them down his throat, I would have. He’s a monster and I'm glad he died suffering."

The irony of him, of all people, saying that is not lost on Day. But, well…even at his worst, he didn't do anything as heinous as hacking the wings off of two of his own kids and blinding one of them.

Coming back from just a day-long run to the nearby village to find Theo, all of thirteen, desperately trying to protect his younger brothers despite his own maiming–

He can never forget that sight. Nor can he forgive a man who would be that much of a monster.

There are a lot of debts he has racked up with the Fates, but that is the first and largest. Despite their confusion from the sudden reality warp, they were still able to give Theo the strength to hold on until Day returned.

The Fates are why his family remains whole and hale. He can never hope to repay them for that fact.

"Not me, personally," Day answers. "But Sanctuary as a whole does, yes. Some people would say Manhunts don't count. I disagree; the server pretty much shuts down for them, after all. Even Lucid’s are a big deal…not that they can outdo Perce's."

He sounds a little smug about that. His second youngest, for all that he likes to be a menace, has taken to Sanctuary's style of Manhunts with a startling amount of grace.

Maybe part of it is a desire to get the hefty paychecks offered, sure. Perce has several pricey hobbies; those had actually been the push he needed to actually take the plunge.

There had been some awkwardness in adjusting to the new format, of course. But once he had his footing, his second youngest had taken off at a dead sprint and has yet to slow down.

And now Perce draws the biggest audience, in no small part because he knows exactly how to play to them. He’s damn good at finding the best way to balance his skill and keeping the viewers in suspense.

But the question had likely been about more normal festivals.

"The last weekend of March, we have the Blooming Festival. It's a celebration of the end of winter and beginning of spring. Lots of flowers get handed around in different forms. Bouquets, flower crowns, corsages, bracelets– some people get them preserved with magic as a memento. Or just get paper ones."

He can’t help but smile at the memory he has of Lee and Perce's respective first years. 

With Perce, the rest of his family– and his friends, once they caught on– made a game out of stealthily adding to the increasingly unwieldy number of floral adornments. It quickly spiraled out of control, until it seemed like half of Sanctuary decided to pile on.

Even Vio had managed to pin a small hyssopus to his sleeve. Nobody was sure when he did it, just that it had to have been him.

The flower is pretty uniquely linked to the alien. They’re what his ear cuff is in the shape of, and thus a little too personal for most people to grow at all. Even those that do wouldn't just hand them out like that.

By the end of the festival, Perce had enough flowers that he could have started a stall. He had been red faced from laughter and a bit of embarrassment.

Lee, meanwhile, had missed that same celebration by just a bit under two months. He had more time to acclimate to Sanctuary's style of celebrating in time for the next year, and more critically, time to plot.

His goal had been to give every single person a flower. In his eyes, they were all special, and thus all needed to get something from him.

There…had been some distress, when he failed at that exceptionally ambitious goal.

A few people got together afterwards to help him belatedly achieve it– Aster being among them.

Daz, too. It's sort of funny; the two Tommys don't mesh at all, and yet they had both felt driven to help a sullen six year old feel better.

Now that he’s thinking about the perky head of newcomer orientation, though, he remembers another event.

"The Welcome Wagon holds a picnic each month, open to anyone who wants to go. I think it's mainly to help new residents meet others. I don't go much, but Orph loves it."

Likely, part of that is because he’s good friends with Daz. Plus he doesn't have to stress about orientation any more. The rest of the people who run the day-to-day parts of the server are semi-regulars as well. Even Vio shows up sometimes, in between boughts of…hibernation?

Day is pretty sure that's what Vio has claimed he does to recover post-travel. But Vio says a lot of things that Day takes with a few pounds worth of salt, so fuck knows if he was telling the truth, exaggerating, or just flat out lying.

He and Theo agree that Vio definitely makes some things up just to fuck with them. It’s likely payback for all the times that the two of them annoy the alien.

It does not help that the rest of the not-family double down on some things, or refute others that Day knows for a fact are true.

Speaking of Vio's totally-not-sons, though…

"We have combat tournaments– which Aryll is banned from participating in. He won too easily and it was boring for everyone. That happened not too long after multiverse travel started, though, and there’s a good chance he wouldn't do nearly as well now. He's never tried to appeal it because he can't be bothered and he likes rubbing it in Theo’s face."

It remains a sore spot for Theo that he was never able to get banned for being too good.

Of course– Day’s eldest never gives them his all, either. There’s leagues of difference between a friendly, if heated, match and Theo aiming to kill.

Theo can be beaten. Theseus Was-Taken cannot.

Day is all too aware of just how powerful Theo truly is– a lifetime of pushing himself to be stronger, better, and faster than anyone else is emphasized every time the chorus of the Fates demand blood.

Despite the frequent bickering and annoyance, the Fates do not fuck around with an actual threat. They’ve grown attached to Theo and his loved ones– and, thus, messing around when those are in danger is a non-option.

Theseus Was-Taken, the legend, was born because Theo needed to protect his family. He and the Fates formed a deep, symbiotic relationship; they live in his head and grant him strength, and he acts as their conduit on the world at large.

Even Iatros has been able to get a better understanding of Chat through him.

…And also through Day talking about Theo’s antics over the years. So sue him– the piglin was arguably the last bridge not reduced to ash by the time Day had made his desperate deal. He might have spent decades in the world of the SMPza, but…a part of him could never forget that tiny sliver of hope.

Iatros might be his therapist, but Day still considers him a friend. Zephyr– usually just Phil– has become one, too.

They do share centuries of memories. Some of them are confusing, some are infuriating, some are fascinating, but they are still shared.

Phil only ever competed in one of the tournaments. Despite complaining that he was too old for it, he was still fifth.

Not bad by any stretch. Definitely worse than Day’s fourth, though– and well behind Vio's third, Theo’s second, or Aver's first place.

It had been a good fight. A familiar sense of joy had overtaken Day when the scrappy, snarling kid who had been through hell got his first gold medal.

Aver looked a hell of a lot like Theo had the first time his eldest was able to beat Day in a spar. Definitely older, but the look of hard-won victory still brought back a lot of memories.

So, Day had taken it upon himself to commission Atlas for a golden laurel wreath. Aver had laughed in delight and wore it for the next week.

As far as Day is aware, Aver's laurels are currently being worn by a life size cow plushie on display in Make It Sew.

That had all been years ago, of course. It was before Aster had been brought back– hell, it was before Perce had entered the picture.

His second youngest sometimes feels like he’s been with them forever. It's jarring to remember that there was a time before he or Lee were a part of the family.

He continues, "Christmas is another big holiday for us. It's…" he pauses, brows furrowing in thought.

"...It's a way to reaffirm the spirit of kindness that made them decide to stay here. It doesn’t matter if you've been here two weeks or two years; you get presents. There’s a lot of groups that hold open festivities, because just about everyone here has too much experience with being alone."

Prime knows that Day is familiar with it. He remembers the numb blur of time, blood, and agony that his time in Pandora's Vault became.

Even before that, though– when he was rapidly spiraling out of control– he spent too much time with only his server for company.

By the time things devolved beyond repair, even that was gone. There was just Day, his fury, and the crippling admin drives that ruined him.

He tries not to focus too much on that part of his past. Sometimes he's left breathless over his grief that he had to rip out a part of his soul, to murder the world that never understood why everything was going so wrong so fast.

"It doesn’t matter how fancy the gift is. What's really important, at least from what I've seen, is that you're thinking of the other person. I've heard a lot of stories about the Welcome Wagon reducing people to tears with origami or a box of snacks. One year, the Prank Guild heads hacked into the com network to send everyone a greatest hits montage of server prank wars."

Day remains completely and utterly convinced that they did it with help from the Redstone Alliance. Nobody has ever admitted as such, sure, but Day is incredibly suspicious that the compilation had Theo getting bested so many times.

…The number of times Vio looked like a clown was also pretty damn high. The T3 are united in their rock solid belief that the tech geeks provided the leg work for that particular 'gift.'

Caper and Spark, meanwhile, were able to add another onto the list of server guidelines. Hacking into the com network on that scale for anything short of an emergency isn't cool.

Funny, yes, but not great for the overall mental health of the server.

He stretches his wings out behind him, trying to work out a faint twinge. It's too easy to tune out physical discomfort and pain. This body might have never gone through horrific torture, but Day damn well remembers it.

His pain receptors are, as far as he can tell, just permanently fucked up. It's…been an issue for him.

"And on Christmas night, most of the server gathers for a party. Some people dress up, others wear casual clothes, but it’s fun all around. Food, games, time spent with friends and strangers alike…even active prank wars get set aside for the night.” Another smile creeps up at the memories.

Day is definitely among those who want to dress up. It’s not only a chance to wear something nice, but to show off a lot of the fancier jewelry he’s gotten over the years.

To him, Christmas night is magical. Seeing so many people he’s offered a hand towards gathering together, laughing and talking, in a server shaped not by war but peace…

That feeling is not something he could ever fully put into words.

Seeing his sons in that atmosphere in particular makes him emotional. He still feels a horrible sense of guilt for the suffering that his eldest four endured on the SMPza.

Having them be so carefree, with so many others who care about them…

Yeah, he needs to go to another event. If he doesn’t, he might start crying.

The best way to redirect is, as always, to reflect on the Prank Guild’s actions.

He huffs softly as he says, “April Fool’s day is omnipresent, inescapable, and officially sponsored by the Prank Guild. My understanding is that they make bank. Some people go into lockdown.”

Day’s family is not among them. As long as there aren’t recently-rescued guests in Summer Hills, it’s the best time of year for anyone to try to prank them.

Plenty have tried. A lot have failed, and gotten a taste of what the Was-Taken family can do when sufficiently motivated.

The ones who succeed get a full taste of it. It’s maybe a little too satisfying to see them realize the gravity of their actions far, far too late.

Being able to see their glee turn into regret in real time is definitely petty of him. But at the same time, he only pretends not to be a chaotic bastard at heart.

His kids had to learn it from someone, after all.

But there's plenty of other, less benign things they've learned from him. He can’t help but feel an ache in his chest when he thinks about how much they've all suffered because of his selfishness.

Tone much more serious, he explains, “On the day before the anniversary of the server's creation, we mourn. For people, for places, for things– everyone in Sanctuary has lost something. A collective day of remembrance lets us all grieve. Some people do it alone, others with friends or family. We usually light candles or send lanterns made with seaweed out over the ocean. There’s no wrong way to do it, though.”

Prime knows his own style has shifted over the years. It had been something he did only with his sons, at first.

Then Iatros gently suggested that he should take at least a few hours to focus on his own grief, instead of only theirs.

It was good advice. Day takes time in the morning to let himself ruminate on his past. He's lost so much, and he’ll lose so much more before he's through.

After that, he joins his sons to have a slightly less somber remembrance. He tells stories and listens to the ones they tell, in turn.

He sighs softly. “And…the next day, we celebrate healing. We come together and have a festival to declare that no matter our pain, we're still here. We've escaped hell and found a place that prizes kindness and love. How can we not love that, after we've suffered so much?”

A faint smile creeps up again. It's hard not to, when he thinks about the years he's spent marveling at the way none of them can stand to let negativity linger for too long. Many of the current residents have had a bad parting be the final time they spoke to someone, after all– and that regret has shaped them into the people they are today.

The Night of Flight and Dawn of Sanctuary are two halves of a whole. Pain and grief will find you, yes, but there is always time to heal.

How sweet. You should write greeting cards or something.

Day startles, his head snapping up like he can spot whoever just spoke.

Oh c'mon, DayDream. You're smarter than that!

You don't want to bore me, do you?

A shudder goes down his spine. The flex of power in just those words makes the situation painfully clear.

This is some form of divinity, and boring them is dangerous.

They want to be entertained, like Day is only there to put on a show for them.

A peal of laughter, almost staticky at points, rings out. Fuck, you have no idea how right you are! Why did I bother staying quiet for so long, if it's this much fun speaking up?! Being silent doesn't suit me, anyway. Too much of a showman–

The door slams open, and on the other side is Theo. He looks distressed, a fact that diverts Day's attention from the likely-malicious entity.

“Dad, we have a fuckin’ problem–” Theseus, your timing sucks. I spent so long waiting, and NOW is when you show yourself?!

Theo grits his teeth. “It's been ten minutes.” Hah! If only you knew.

A bitterness lies under those words, but Day is too busy getting up to put a hand on his son's shoulder. “What do you want from us?”

I'm sick of hanging back. This whole mess is going to get stalled out forever unless something changes, anyway. Two birds, one stone.

That explains nothing.

You don't need to understand. You'll figure it out eventually, even if I don't tell you.

Jaw flexing, Theo hisses, “You act like you're above retaliation from other gods. Do you think that Time–”

Laughter booms so loud that they both wince from it. Half-hysterically, the voice repeats, Time? TIME?! I know you're not supposed to know, but holy FUCK…of all the threats you could have made, that's the funniest. It's a dumb one, too– it's not like they'd take your calls.

Day narrows his eyes. It feels like a trap, but–

“Who said we're the only ones who can call?”

A giggle sounds out. Sure; I'll back off if the Observers can get Time to scold me. What could outrank the embodiment of time and reality, anyway?

Somehow, Day doesn't find any comfort in that promise.

[cattyanon]

Since I'm distracted by working on a fic, and I saw a somewhat similar AU in the Sonic au tag, I've decided to just go ahead and post about it...

Project Lightspeed (aka Wisp Sonic)

Note: I messed up on some of the color positions with the first drawing but there's another drawing that's more accurate!

(Above picture is his modern design)

The second artificially made lifeform on the ARK, Project Lightspeed Sonic uses a combination of the Cyan Laser and Ivory Lightning Wisps that were forcefully infused to him to run at the incredible speeds he's able to reach.

He isn't actually aware that he'd been infused with the power of the Wisps or his origins in general until Sonic Adventure 2 happens. To say he react well to everything is kinda an understatement...

As for how he ends up on Earth and all that? Well first we need to establish a bit of background.

Peoject Lightspeed, as he was referred to on the ARK, didn't get the same treatment as Shadow. In fact his treatment was much worse. While he was also created with the help of Gerald his double purpose was different from Shadow's. As for why I say double purpose? Well there's the main purpose they're presented as and then there's GUN's true purpose for them.

Project Shadow's main purpose was presented as finding a cure for Maria, while GUN's true purpose was for him to be The Ultimate Lifeform.

Project Lightpseed's main purpose was presented as being able to quickly help people get to safety or to a hospital, while GUN's true purpose for him was to be an improved version of The Ultimate Lifeform. And this time they'd ensure everything they could to keep him away from Gerald's much too caring hands in an attempt to mold him to their liking.

While technically Sonic is more powerful than Shadow, he's unaware of certain abilities he possesses which makes it so when they fight they're on more equal footing. He can not only do everything Shadow can but better, but he's also got his own unique chaos abilities... that I still need to figure out.

Btw the reason he only has one inhibitor ring is because, due to secretly being an improved version of The Ultimate Lifeform, his energy is much more stable than Shadow's.

So due to how kindhearted Sonic is, their attempts to mold him to their liking made them very unhappy with him. He'd constantly get punished for not obeying their orders. Punishments started out as more grueling testing and hurting him. When that didn't work after a while they decided to try some different methods, eventually finding that submerging him in water was the most effective in getting him to do what they want. At that point the only thing he'd still try to refuse to do is kill.

The reason it was so effective is cause he's not only made up of mostly energy, but it so happens that one his main components is lightning. So combine those two things with the fact that water and electricity don't mix well? Well needless to say that constantly submerging him in it causes his hydrophobia to become extreme.

And then eventually the ARK raid happens...

Knowing he's likely going to die anyways and since he was in the general area, Gerald takes pity on Sonic and helps him escape. Sonic easily trusts him since he's one of the only people to not hurt him. Gerald does his best to escort him to one of the multiple escape pod zones, informing him of what he'll need to do if Gerald is unable to make it with him. Which is good since he doesn't. The way it happens is that he ends up having to stall some guards, subsequently resulting in his arrest.

Sonic makes it to the pods and manages to escape, but not before obtaining even more trauma. So much so that he ends up repressing his memories of the ARK in general.

Unfortunately the pod ends up malfunctiong because of Sonic's powers going on the fritz due to the stress of the situation. Speaking of stress, he manages to essentially short circuit himself and enters a self induced coma as his body tries to fix itself. It doesn't help that he's subconsciously using a fraction of his energy to power the pod's essentials. Most notably life support and stasis.

The pod ends up crashing into Westside Island, causing the locals to investigate. Locked from the inside and short circuited, the islanders are unable to open it or see inside. Eventually they give up and, being too heavy for them to move, wind up just making a scrapyard around the pod.

Fast forward a little less than 50 years when a certain two tailed fox comes across it while looking for some scrap to use. Curious as to what could be inside when he's unable to open it, he makes something to tow the pod to his shack and it ends up becoming his own little pet project.

One day, while the fox is out, the blue and yellow hedgehog in the pod finally wakes up.

The amnesiac stumbles his way out of the pod and falls onto the ground. And of course it's that moment the fox finally returns home.

And while the fox had no idea what to expect from the stranger, something he defientely wasn't expecting was for them to be terrified upon seeing him.

(The red rings aren't inhibitors but rather cuffs that they used to help keep him in line aboard the ARK)

It takes a while for the currently nameless hedgehog to even think about trusting the fox. People meant bad things happen to him, even if he doesn't remember why. He ends up subconsciously curling into a ball and stays that way for a while, baffling the fox as to when he eats or drinks.

(They much later learn that he doesn't need to eat or drink as he's able to sustain himself with his own energy)

And while the hedgehog doesn't talk he eventually gives the fox a chance, who he'd nicknamed Tails in his head, and becomes overprotective over him. From there they slowly but surely come to view each other as brothers.

[oklotea]

ok. I will just throw up in your ask box about YOUR ART MAN arggjjgjfj

it's adorable and you can quickly do little doodles of various characters while capturing their vibe immaculately!!! I can look at any of them even without knowing them super well that yeah. That's the guy. and how your art style manages to remain a little cartoony and silly while being able to include most facial traits without much of a hitch!! I'd really consider you one of my top inspirations for my art style, you've made me think about a lot of things and I've used a few of them as copy references to try and get a vibe right, really your art is incredible and I am always jealous of everyone's hair drawing styles. constantly. especially yours

much love from an anon that loves your stuff :D

I'M SOBBING MY EYES OUT I'M SOBBING MY EYES OUT I'M SOBBING MY EYES OUT

AAUAGEGEHDHEJFG ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH. YOU MADE MY NIGHT.

What the fuck.... I've never had anyone told me how I'm some sort of inspiration to them in as much depth as this...

AGHHHH THIS WAS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET WHADDAFUUCKKKKSJDKDKSK

Thank you I can't stop saying that, I'm absolutely honored to hear that I've helped someone, even just a tiny bit, on their artistic journey. You don't understand how much this actually really means to me,,,,, agghhh

Anon, I'll just say that I wish you luck in the future, and I hope you have an amazing day/night, I'm going to keep this message close to my heart forever <3

Thank you for taking the time to write this,,,, AGAIN GOD BLESS HAVE A GREAT DAY

[duckapus]

Here We Go Again...

(When Team Rocket first encountered Meme Pikachu)

Meowth: I'm sorry, but the position of annoying talking Pokemon is already taken!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Zack: Toast is just large croutons.

Ted:... *deploys toast depicting Zack's face with "X"es for eyes*

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Arle: Now me? I'm not like the twins. I don't know the first thing about clothes. Pretty much all I can do is look at something and tell you if it's clothes or not.

Arle: This chair? *taps on the chair she's sitting in* Not clothes.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

(Doppel meets a fortune teller while traveling in Magnamiel)

Fortune Teller: Your future is full of struggle and anguish. Most of it self-inflicted.

Pierrot: But ye didn't read my palms or anythin'.

Fortune Teller: I didn't need to. It's written all over your mask.

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Sally: I have edge!

Elanore: You really don't. You're literally the most wide-eyed person I've ever seen even with all the horrors you've lived through. If you weren't made of metal you'd probably have the face of a cartoon lamb.

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Ash: Actually despite being a teenager and an Avatar I'm a surprisingly rational person.

Pikachu: Your hand's been stuck in a vending machine for twenty minutes.

Ash: I paid for my pretzels.

Ash: I'm getting my pretzels.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew: Aren't you a little young to be drinking wine?

Frenzy, holding a wine glass full of goat blood: ...Yes.

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Tulip: If I stay in bed I'll be warm. If I take a shower I'll be warm. But between the bed and the shower? No. That Is Not The Warm.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

(If 4 had managed to recover more quickly (or at all))

Admiral 3: Enough! How dare you mock me in such a manner!?

SMG4: Well, how would you like me to mock you? I take requests.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Frenzy: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container.

Ash: The Miltank?

Frenzy: WHAT?

Sora: Ash, why!?

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Laharl: Etna has taught Sicily how to stick post-it's on people's backs without them noticing.

Laharl: She doesn't know they're supposed to say stuff like "Kick Me" so they just have cute drawings or animal facts.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Frenzy, vibrating intensely: GuysthiscoffeeissogoodIcouldprobablydoamathproblem.

Sora, already dialing Crown's number: Correctly?

Frenzy: Idon'tknow.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Zack: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *holds up a note that says "I'm very proud of you. Love, Mom"*

Cody: Oh, yeah. I didn't think this was for me. *holds up a note that says "Be good. For the love of God, please be good"*

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Red: If you ever feel safe remember that I am out there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Meggy: THREE MONTHS!

Boopkins: What's she talking about?

Bob: Don't worry about it-

Meggy: FOR THREE MONTHS YOU WATCHED ME WATER A PLASTIC PLANT!

Bob, trying not to laugh: It's in the lobby, it isn't even your plant!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Luigi: Hey Bro, what are you doing?

Mario: Trying to draw a perfect circle.

Luigi: ...That's a triangle.

Mario: I said I'm trying!

[circlejourney]

In defence of art that no one sees

I'm having a lot thoughts emerging from @koyoba's Twitter thread about how social media has made the experience of fiction a compulsory public practice, and how it's been leveraged as "organic advertising"--but specifically on the subject of fanart.

I used to force out fanart for exposure. I spent literal years playing to the algorithm: I'd see that a work of fiction I liked was popular in the current zeitgeist, and think, "an opportunity to earn Social Media Points and get more visible!" Around 2014-2016, I made it a personal rule to post at least 2 pieces of fanart a week.

And like, it worked. I got thousands of followers out of it. I was a half-competent artist, had ideas, and did sincerely love those stories--and also very much felt a need to capitalise on that love. So a lot (not all, but a lot) of the fanart I made began as a fleeting thought, inflated into a full project solely by the prospect of likes and shares.

This tendency is made quite clear when I think about what stories I chose to make fanart for. Steven Universe and Homestuck? I loved them both, and both had very active fandoms, so I spent years of my life making fanwork--there was an ecosystem, a captive audience. But my actual favourite works of fiction--typically standalone films (Inception, WALL-E) and books (Lord of the Rings)? I quietly read, watched, revisited them for years without drawing a single thing for them. Fanwork production was not my default mode of engagement with stories I liked--it was one I was slowly absorbed into as I observed these active networks of shared imagination and the resultant high levels of engagement. The first few pieces of fanart were always sincere, and then it gradually lapsed into the territory of obligation.

It was such a dishonest reflection of the pattern of my interests, though. I've rarely stayed at the "actively conceptualise and make fanwork" phase of fiction investment for more than a year. It's just not how I work. I skate from one story to another, and eventually end up back at my own narrative projects, which are infinitely more rewarding to me.

But other people do find an equal fulfillment in fanwork. In the past, I'd come back to someone's profile years later and be surprised that they were still actively producing fanwork for it. Now I understand that this is because the niche filled by original work (for me) is where fanwork sits in many other people's creative repertoires, and I respect that completely--this post isn't about those people or a criticism of their work.

But also, and here is where I would broaden the scope a little: fanart is heavily incentivised over other kinds of art. (Specifically fanart, I don't think fanfiction has quite the same sort of ecosystem.) It's free advertising for franchise fiction--consider how Overwatch's publicity managers released character sheets, hired cosplayers to dress as their characters, and generally supported fan work--it's a seemingly benevolent gesture, but it is also very much an advertising strategy that works. Organic, word-of-mouth publicity. Publishers, social media platforms, and even we ourselves, have a vested interest in keeping franchise fiction in the minds of artists and rewarding the production of fanart: it's "content" that'll get clicks, impressions, followers and ultimately money for everyone along the food chain of creation and dissemination.

And when the algorithm is designed to amplify click-attracting content, art that people can consume and forget quickly become orders of magnitude more visible than art that means something to just a handful of people (sans any additional effort to research and bond with it). With fanart, there's no barrier to entry, since you already know the characters and relationships--no need to find out more and form a connection with the work they're from--and you can simply hit "like" and "share" and get the full experience out of the art within a minute. And it becomes so, so much more popular.

And this wouldn't all be so insidious if we (or at least I) haven't been trained by these platforms--by unread badges, push notifications, follower counts--to crave engagement. I've felt the pull of that compulsion, to make more fanart I don't really care for, every time I wake up to hundreds of interactions on fanart I posted months ago and none on original art I posted the day before. Or every time I post original art and lose a follower. The numbers get translated in my mind into relative indicators of like/dislike. So just like people repost comedic or outrageous takes because they get popular, I (and surely people like myself) make more fanart than I would if it weren't incentivised by revenue-motivated social media algorithms.

I know in some cases, attracting engagement is a necessary evil, such as when you're hoping to make your living off of art. If this is your publicity strategy, I'd say go for your life, we need to put food on the table and we deserve to do so with a job we like. I also can't deny the pleasure of having someone engage with one's work fully invested in it. But l think there's nothing trivial about even one person being genuinely invested in your original work, particularly without the boost of publicity channels, and numbers belie that. One person taking the time to think about your original characters is so much more valuable than one fanart reblog.

How does my thinking outlined here affect how I'll approach art and fanwork, and what do I think would be a good response to algorithmic bullshit? I don't think the point is to guilt trip people into reblogging original art if they don't otherwise feel a desire to. Like, it would be really cool to make it a social norm to reblog any art you like--but we kind of have to accept that by the force of platform algorithms amplifying the statistical tendencies of users, fanart is always going to attract more visibility.

I just hope that anyone who's read this far is willing to look into any original work that crosses their feed, if the person who made it is someone they like. Also, those ad hoc grassroots efforts to make original work more visible--"share your OC art"/publicity threads and events--have actually been great for discovering others. And as much as Toyhouse sucks sometimes, it has the highest concentration of people who will go to the extra effort to learn about the original projects behind the art, out of anywhere on the internet that I've been.

I'm a person with shifting interests. Im the sort who will draw a handful of pieces for one fandom, and then quietly enjoy the rest of the fanwork while moving on creatively. The fact that I feel a need to ossify and continually perform my interest in franchise fiction to "hold" followers is frankly depressing. Realising that it's all part of hostile platform design has helped me wean myself of the need to do things for the algorithm, but I still have some way to go.

And well, you're gonna keep seeing my OC art, because that's where my love lies, and the joy I feel when others engage with those is rarely motivated by numerical success. I would like to commit to interacting more actively with others' works too, and maybe emphasise how cool I think it is that we're materialising entire lifetimes from our minds. If people wanna unfollow me for that, then I guess they can be my guest. This blog is my sanctuary for posting whatever the hell I want, including my ongoing OC project brainrot :)